


Stars Above

by Fantastic Beasts and Where 2 Fondle Them (WideTheWaters)



Series: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Fondle Them [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Luna Lovegood, Centaur/human sex, Centaurs, Crack Treated Seriously, Creature Fic, Creature Inheritance, Cunnilingus, Exophilia, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fauns & Satyrs, Foot Fetish, For Science!, Given up asking why I write this, Gratuitous Smut, Harems, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Forbidden Forest, Horse Jokes, Hot Springs, Human/Monster Romance, Impregnation, Interspecies, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, Lingerie, Luna Lovegood is a Good Friend, Magizoology (Harry Potter), Mythical Beings & Creatures, Non-Human Genitalia, Not Quite Human Anatomy, Nymphs & Dryads, Oral Sex, Porn with extremely minimal plot, Research, Rough Sex, Size Difference, Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Starring Luna Lovegood, Tails, Teratophilia, Vaginal Sex, Xenophilia, centaur sex, creature luna lovegood, magical beings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 13:47:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21375118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WideTheWaters/pseuds/Fantastic%20Beasts%20and%20Where%202%20Fondle%20Them
Summary: The centaur stared. “What sorcery is THIS contraption?...”Luna smiled, having achieved the desired effect.  “It’s called a brassiere, or a bra.” She settled her shoulders back, happy to give him a proper eye full.  “Thoughts?”“This… this is wickedness itself.  You’d adorn the perfect with little threadbare fripperies of spider-silk and rainbows?  It’s perverse. It’s the most lascivious thing I’ve ever seen. You little … wanton… salacious… obscene… indece-”“Yes, hmm.  You do have a very impressive vocabulary,” she said, finding it in her to smirk and toss her hair.“Leave. It. On.” He whispered throatily in her ear
Relationships: Luna Lovegood/Ronan (Centaur)
Series: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Fondle Them [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1533881
Comments: 11
Kudos: 113





	Stars Above

##  _ _

##  _ 2011, The Forbidden Forest _

Luna gazed upward through the mist of her exhalations and the bare branches above. The stars were bright tonight over the Forbidden Forest, and there was no moon in the firmament. 

Her feet dangled around him and she swung them gaily in quick little kicks, and to anyone looking on, the slight blonde in the starlight might have resembled a little girl on a carousel. This was not a side of her that many saw, she knew, but she’d exhausted all her field journals here. He had been a friend when her career was still just a notion in its infancy, and then he’d been another scientist eager to exchange information (despite the prevalent disinterest among his own people). Now, although she knew they both noted new facts uncovered accidentally when they were together for later rumination, she was with him purely because they enjoyed each other’s company - and because of a promise not yet fulfilled between friends, friends who each didn’t have many to trust with their more intimate conundra. 

True, the timing was her own choice - but after the intensity of the last couple months, the thought of a lover she was fairly certain _ she’d _ be the one to surprise appealed. As did breathing in a bit of his flippancy to lighten herself; if only others knew about the real truth of the gravely prognosticating centaur when he was at his ease, they’d laugh themselves silly. She certainly had - and he’d done so right alongside her. She knew it was, to some extent, something he put on - but he’d taught her than she could be coarse, or silly, or cheeky herself, and it had been a good thing to learn, even if easing into it felt awkwardly like an act of pretending until it stuck every time.

She sighed and leaned forward against the rippling musculature of his back, letting his warmth radiate into her. “The sky is lovely tonight.”

Ronan’s deep voice chuffed as he plodded carefully forward toward their destination. “Yes. The stars bear interesting tidings. Firenze and I,” he chuckled, “have a _ wager _, you know.”

Luna laughed, her eyes crinkling with mirth. “I didn’t know you had _ that _in you! That sounds so… absurd, really, for a great and pompous nag like you. And Firenze - that really is unexpected. What do you get if you win, then?” She smirked, nipping at his shoulder.

The centaur snorted. “I was a colt not long ago, and I still kick up my hooves and play. I think, though, that I will need to be gentle with you, little filly, or the stars themselves will curse me. You are, after all, the one they have been talking about.” 

Luna blinked. “No!”

Ronan nodded gravely. “Oh, yes.”

“Ronan, you know I can’t See in them as you can. Tell me! What are they saying?” Luna bounced a little astride him with impatience and excitement.

“I think it’s better you do not know yet. I will tell you, though, later. And Aurora, of course, made us submit the prophecy to your Ministry.” Ronan paused, sniffing the air, and then continued forward, brushing aside a low branch.

“Ronan, you mustn’t keep this from me! I… I’ll… oh!” Luna, quickly deciding she’d risk a ruckus, squeezed her legs securely around him and flexed her fingers to warm them in preparation. “You know I can persuade you, if you leave me no choice,” she warned.

The centaur turned at waist and neck to look back at her. “You _ wouldn’t,” _ he said, pretending certainty. “You’re a very respectable … what is it, now? Magizoologist? And I,” he preened, “Am an incomparable specimen, a jewel among the creatures you may study. You are bound by your professional ethics to observe dispassionately, avoid my agitation, and not alter the natural course of my animalistic machinations, is that not so?”

Luna scowled. “Don’t even remind me of the sad state of my field - I’m all too aware. My professional peers should watch you help Aurora write the Arithmancy NEWTS sometime. As for your animalistic machinations… I’m quite looking forward to being anything but dispassionate_ . _”

Ronan smirked, pulling her dangerously off balance a moment to twist and drag her far enough to the side to wrap his arms around her and soundly kiss her, his tongue lazily teasing past her lips to dance with hers. _ “Clearly _ you are simply right down in the muck with us base half-breeds, princess, and incapable of any scientific objectivity,” he breathed, his lips brushing hers as they formed the words. 

Luna narrowed her eyes, righting her seat. “You’re as happy as I am to leave that avenue exhausted behind us. The papers are published, the Ministry has made the odd change, and we can just be who we are, now, and change each other as friends do. Unless… are you baiting me for some reason?”

“Is it working?” The centaur’s eyes twinkled. Luna laughed inwardly that so many of her human friends thought of him as doleful. Since the war, certainly, she had never seen it.

“I suspect that repartee and teasing are part of a courtship dance for you, Ronan. I think you’re just trying to set the mood. Is this how all centaurs flirt?” 

He grinned over his shoulder at you. “There aren’t others like me! And it’s been some time since I’ve courted, but you… you’re breathtaking when I’ve worked you into high dudgeon, and… and _ thank you _, filly, I’ve needed this.”

Luna saw he was slipping toward seriousness, and she couldn’t have that. “Still think you’re not going to tell me about the stars, then?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” the ginger centaur said, picking up his hooves a little higher in his mirth and breaking into a trot as they entered an area with less underbrush.

“You brought this on yourself,” Luna said with false regret. Then, the tickling began.

Ronan was _ horrifically _ ticklish. She’d discovered this years ago, after the Battle of Hogwarts, while attempting to bandage his curse wounds. Since then, the two had become good friends, reveling in their own eccentricities together while each standing a bit apart from the rest of their herd.

She started with his sides.

And so it was that he started cantering through the woods, bucking and kicking and rearing and shrieking “No nononononononononono! Noooooooo..! Eeeee, ooof, eeee, ohhh, that tickles, aaaaaaaaagh, Luna, I’ll…”

She was a witch, and on this occasion, riding him wildly through the wood, she decided to let loose and have a good cackle.

##  _ ❧ _

She cried out in shock at the sudden and unexpected temperature change when they burst through a curtain of evergreens and into a warm, steaming glade - and he stopped so rapidly her torso slammed into his back.

She blinked, dazed for a moment, as she felt his ridiculously prominent musculature rippling against her, clearly on purpose. It seemed her proximity really did have an impact on him, as he’d insisted it had.

“Well,” she finally said, smirking and vanishing her heavy parka. “Tell me the about the bet if not the prophecy?” 

He looked around at her, arching a brow. “I bet my foal would be your first.”

Luna paled, unaccustomed to seeing such hunger in her friend’s eyes. “Did you, now?”

He nodded seriously, smiling faintly. “You will have her, now or later - I have Seen her. You will give her to me and she will change… well, _ everything _ , for my kind. I suppose if it takes a few tries, I won’t suffer _ too _ much for it, but... thank you for putting me in the running, Luna. I think you’re right about this being an auspicious time, though that’s the last I’ll say about it.”

“Hmmm.” Luna looked around, seeing a merry little waterfall of hot water leaping down rocky terraces into a deep pool. “Thank you for finding someplace warm. You’re sure Magorian is occupied and away from here this evening?”

Luna’s published works on centaurs had been among her first. While there were more herds, now, experimenting with other social arrangements, most still cleaved to the old ways - in which one male led, demanding submission of all others, kept females secluded and to himself. It had only been at great personal risk that Luna had ever seen centaur women, having borrowed Harry’s invisibility cloak and snuck into the vale where the harem lived, and she had struggled ever since with what seemed, to her, to be an animal tendency the intelligent beings should long ago have thought better of. She’d say it wasn’t hers to judge more easily if she didn’t know that the stallion-lording-over-the-mares thing made many individuals within the colony distinctly unhappy, tearing siblings from siblings and parents from children, and cementing a cloistered and subordinate role for centaur women. Any defiance of that role was met with swift violence by the colony leader and his adherents, who generally hoped to benefit from the system themselves someday as Magorian grew older, and would inevitably fail when challenged.

Magorian did not approve of Luna, and Ronan… Ronan could be put to death for this. Even letting her ride him was forbidden, though the two parties involved both consented and found it everything from expedient, to enjoyable, to intimate.

Luna looked up from her thoughts when Ronan pawed the moss a bit, looking troubled. “I understand Rhiannon is in heat again. He’ll… he’ll be busy.”

Rhiannon was Ronan’s sister. While he missed the breeding privileges he had briefly enjoyed when he headed the colony, he missed her considerably more - and she had no love of Magorian.

Luna stroked his shoulders soothingly. “Are you sure, tonight…?”

Ronan snapped out of his reverie immediately. “Yes, woman, I am sure. Why aren’t you naked? I’m fairly certain you should be naked.”

Luna laughed as he twisted to pick her up and then deposited her, seated with legs dangling, on a high, mossy shelf. “Hmmm. Yes, I see there was strategy in your decision to bring me here, in many ways,” she said, giving the sometimes-sloping, sometimes-vertical rock face a critical once-over. It had a _ lot _of mossy ledges.

Ronan, meanwhile, had pulled her warm boots off easily, and her socks to follow. “Is it perverse I find these so fascinating?” he said, before he lifted both her feet and set about sucking her toes. “They’re,” he mouthed around her flesh, “So _ dainty_. So soft. Half useless, but you manage, and they’re… really fucking cute, is what they are.” He happily nipped and sucked at her, systematically moving down the row of ten he had neatly gathered together.

Luna watched, her eyes darkening. “I like your hooves, too. The curve between fetlock and pastern, and the little cant at the bottom of a foot when you’ve half-lifted a hoof to rest it. And your legs seem so delicate and thin, when I think of how enormous the breadth of you is, especially when I feel the muscles moving under my legs when you give me a lift. 

He maintained eye contact with her as he sucked, a wicked little smirk curving the corner of his mouth as his tail swished in mirth. “I’ll have you grasping my pretty pasterns soon, I think, if you can reach them. Oh, but I wish you were tall enough that I could properly mount you and bite at your neck for this, but… there are attractions to your delicacy, too. But what else do you find beautiful about me, little witch?”

Luna shook her head. “I’ve just left off flattering you! It’s your turn! Besides, I’m curious: why did you agree to this? To try and get a foal on me?”

Ronan shivered, pausing in his ministrations to answer. “Maybe because I knew you’d say just that to me, so matter of factly, when I did.”

Luna colored slightly, but her eyes stayed on his. 

“Maybe…” he said, pausing to nip, “Because I’ve wanted to have you, foal or no, for a very, _ very _ long time, and I was deliriously pleased with my good fortune when the fates brought you to me willing and asking. It hasn’t always been so rare, you know. We are in a… conservative and separating age, now.”

Luna nodded, a little wistful. “Yes. But I think it is changing.”

“With you around, how could it not?” He said, then paused to nip at her ankle. “I like these too. And the… slenderness, but the fleshy curves to your legs. They’re lovely. And I don’t know what it is about them, but any centaur who tells you he’s never had libidinous thoughts about a witch’s ass has never seen a witch or is a liar.”

Luna’s eyes widened. “Truly?”

He gnawed at her right big toe playfully. “Absolutely.”

Luna relaxed, slumping back into the rock behind her and letting her body feel. “Ronan… when centaurs and mages… consorted more…” She trailed off thoughtfully.

He knew her well. “They were bipedal, like fauns, generally, but with horse’s legs. Fast and dexterous, had an easier time in dense woods than we have, or you. How they managed to balance, rearing all the time, I do not know, but we have paintings.” Finished with toes, he kissed her heels. “Some of them had wands - some hid, under clothing, what they truly were to get them, others didn’t have to. Many of them could shift, some, too, assuming one form or the other. None could do that thing - what is it, that your sort do? Animagi. That. Never that.” He paused to press closer to her, letting her wrap his torso in both her legs and arms as they kissed, his hands tangling in her glossy mane. “I see you’re still not naked, little nymph. Oh - and we do still fuck those - er, you know, dryads, naiads, and such, sometimes, randy little creatures. The offspring come out more nymphs, or sometimes satyrs. A little dim on the whole, though, for my tastes, sadly. No capacity for abstraction and singular focus on whatever tree or forest or what have you they call their own.” 

Luna followed through the ricochets of his monologue, finally looking up from where she’d sucked a little kiss-shaped bruise into his shoulder. “Whoops!” She grinned, not looking remotely guilty.

He pressed his forehead to hers fondly, caressing her neck. “I should never have started telling you the excuses I make. You find them entirely too entertaining, and always see that I must make another excuse to tell you again.” He huffed in frustration, tugging at the cuff at the wrist of her jumper. “Off, off, off. I worry about your tits, all kept in the dark. Does the sun never kiss them, little moon? I will have to work doubly to make up for it, and the ridiculousness of your kind, to have you hide them away so.”

Luna pulled the jumper over her head. She’d actually been looking forward to this.

##  _ ❧ _

He stared at her wide-eyed, his gaze darting between the iridescent shimmer of the gauzy bra and her eyes. Subtly scalloped lace adorned the edges of the shallow cups, which held the swells of her firm, small breasts up to him like an offering, the pink of her nipples peeking through the weave. His hands hovered, unready to alight, as he stood transfixed. “What sorcery is _ this _ contraption?...”

Luna smiled, not at all displeased to have achieved the desired effect. “It’s called a brassiere, or a bra.” She settled her shoulders back, happy to give him a proper eye full. “Thoughts?”

“This… this is wickedness itself. You’d adorn the perfect with little threadbare fripperies of spider-silk and rainbows? It’s perverse. It’s the most lascivious thing I’ve ever seen. You little … wanton… salacious… obscene… indece-”

“Yes, hmm. You do have a very impressive vocabulary,” she said, finding it in her to smirk and toss her hair.

“Leave. It. On.” He whispered throatily in her ear, smoothing his hands down her waist to summarily execute her jeans with several impatient tears. 

Sucking at her shoulder, he pulled the scraps of denim clear and tossed them aside, but when he smoothed his hands up her wickedly smooth legs to her hips, his motion stuttered. Luna drew back to watch his expression as he did likewise, looking down to see what his hands had encountered.

“It… matches! Is it… are they some sort of chastity device, because… I don’t care if they’re spelled to incinerate me, they only make me want to get to the other side. They’re… by the _ stars _ , Luna, I’d intended to mount you, but with this frippery, I’m worried I’ll not stop short of debauching your tiny body right to the point of _ breaking _you!” He looked at her, aghast and dancing in place on his restless hooves, his mouth watering.

Luna smiled. She typically dispensed altogether with lingerie, but it could have its uses. “These are called knickers. This style is called a thong.”

He furrowed his brow at her, perplexed. “What, like the little string of leather I use to tie my… oh. _Oh_.”

Luna had managed to turn on the ledge, displaying for him her pale, bare buttocks - risqué themselves - but parted in their central cleft by a thin ribbon of silky cloth.

His voice was still huskier. “I see. Can I fuck you while you yet wear it?”

Luna smiled dreamily. “Yes. You can push the cloth aside.”

He looked up her body to her eyes again. “I think I must be dreaming.”

She reached out and pinched him on his nipple, prominent on the pronounced bulge of his pectoral muscle. He hissed. “Still think so, but not in a hurry to wake.”

She smiled. “Come to me, then.”

##  _ ❧ _

He surged forward, pressing his torso to hers and claiming her mouth with a greedy kiss. His hands swept down from her shoulders and, with a little pause, proceeded over the delicate cloth. He moaned into her mouth as he grasped at her thus, the contact of his hands mediated by the tantalizing shield of cloth. He explored the texture of the lace, the elasticity with which the harness dug slightly into her sides, and finally pinched and sucked at her nipples through the extravagant wisp of a thing, encouraged by her vocal appreciation. 

Then, with a shudder, he lifted her legs to wrap them around his upper waist and picked her up with an embrace. “You remember how this works for us?” He asked as he looked down at her, simultaneously trotting toward a towering beech, wide and smooth. 

“Yes. Smell. Taste. Mount,” she said, nipping at his full lower lip between words. 

Disengaging her legs, he dragged the front of her up his chest, exalting in the sensation as she swept over him until her he could hitch her thighs around his shoulders. “Yes,” he said, and then, delightedly pulling the tantalizing bit of cloth aside, buried his nose and mouth in her folds.

Luna threw her head back, her back caught along the ancient tree, as she moaned.

He, meanwhile, let himself drown a bit in intoxication, his nose burrowing into the wet and his tongue finding her opening and starting to delve into it readily.

Once she caught her breath a bit, Luna squirmed a bit, positioning herself more comfortably (though the cold could reach her better here) and guiding him to her clit. “Here. Try turning your attentions to this.”

“Don’t tell me everything,” he breathed into her, letting her shudder as his lips moved. “I want to figure it out.”

“I know,” she said, settling back and casting a warming charm on herself wandlessly as he shifted his focus and started to experiment.

After one yelp at a rather too rough nip, she struggled to relax - until he stumbled on sucking. Then, she fell back boneless as he took the cue and ran. 

He seemed to delight in her wailing and thrashing - not a thing centaur women were known for, unless they were trying to evade - and repeatedly worked to perfect the sequence of licks and sucks and breaths that seemed to coax it out of her. It was becoming easy to see the appeal of kissing the cousins, as some less xenophobic centaurs called humans. 

##  _ ❧ _

Finally, he couldn’t take more. “Are you ready?” He asked, nuzzling her inner thigh and looking up at her. 

Panting, she looked down, a oneiric distantness glazing her smile. “Oh, yes. Please.”

Gently, holding himself back from the roughness that was sure to follow, he helped her down, carrying her back to a sloping and moss-covered part of the rocky outcrop as they embraced. He shivered to watch her lick her own juices from his lips. 

“Are you certain, Luna? Because if you Disapparate now, I can hold myself at bay, _ just_, but I’m… I haven’t the gentleness or the daintiness of human men, I’ve seen them in the forest. This will not be that.” He smoothed his hand over her hair, feeling his length flopping to its full extension beneath him and both worried and desperately hopeful she would not accept his invitation to run.

She merely smiled serenely and shook her head at him, unfurling herself from around him and jumping down to lay herself on the mossy slope, taking a moment to ascertain there would be ledges above for his forehooves before she presented him her decadently soft, delicate posterior, lifting it up and canting it, ready to be taken. “I am certain. Mount me.”

He thought wistfully that, wonderful as it had been to embrace and fondle her while he’d pleased her with her mouth, it would be wretched to eclipse her with hands and arms free, now.

And then, rearing up, he mounted her.

##  _ ❧ _

The first spearing thrust threaded his enormous staff between her buttocks and up her spine. As he cursed in frustration, she swiftly adjusted her position, barely taking a breath before he found her with the second attempt. 

She arched with a shocked cry as perhaps thirty inches of erect phallus very suddenly surged into her. It didn’t have much bend. She felt her insides shifting to accommodate this incursion as she heard Ronan yell out in triumph above. And then he proceeded to rut.

It was the longest ten minutes of Luna’s life. 

With each withdrawal, he all but left her, and with each thrust forward, he slammed home, occasionally knocking her forward to her knees such that she had to scramble up before he moved again, lest she be ploughed right into the stone. He moved with the strength and abandon of a much larger creature than she, and a great deal of fear - more, she admitted to herself, than she had bargained for - surged through her alongside the satiation as she felt his bulk moving over her, his smooth coat gliding over her naked back. 

After the first several ruts, she managed to grasp his front pasterns, holding on as his hind legs surged forward and withdrew again, and again, and again. She did not think any partner had ever plumbed her depths this far, not nearly, and it kindled a liquid sort of warmth in her to brace herself against them, reveling in the peculiarities of her hybrid body as she gave some satisfaction to her friend. 

… Who was absolutely beside himself. He hadn’t thought he’d be able to get into her so deep, he thought through the haze of rut-madness. She was so tight it was almost painful, but so wet the constriction made his blood leap. When she grasped at his forelegs, he grinned, knowing she was well, _ knowing _ she would carry his child, and, unwilling to look a gift horse in the mouth, he let his haunches push into the sweet channel as they would. Finding she bent and moaned and cried beneath him, her tiny form writhing for him despite all she’d seen and done, only spurred him on. 

Luna wondered where in the hell it was all _ going _, hearing her own cries with each exorbitant ream. She felt the taut length arch under her skin and muscle, but surely even then… she had a moment of dwelling on the unique burden of being both magical and rational, a scientist and a libidinous part-creature, a mystery and a detective. 

And then, finally, he took a massive lunge into her and stalled, crying out through several short, sharp thrusts while she felt him unload his warm froth inside her and grit her teeth to brace back against his dancing stabs. 

Then, when he very quickly softened and stepped back from her, she fell to her hands and knees, blinking blearily at the ground.

##  _ ❧ _

He had lifted her up, fretfully trying to get her to talk to him. She was looking at him, however many millions of miles away she seemed to be, her proximate eyes more distant than the winking stars. Her hands, knees, and soft feet were scraped, and he’d bruised her about his point of entry, he was abashed to see. 

Remembering something about humans finding it therapeutic to soak in hot water, he walked into the deep pool with her, holding just her face above the surface as he stepped in up to his neck. He distractedly felt the warmth seeping into him, and wondered if maybe the humans were on to something.

The first intentional action he saw of her was a long, languid stretch, interrupted by a wince or two as something ill-used tensed or complained. Then, reeling her far-flung limbs back in to embrace him, she murmured a small, sleepy word: “Wow.”

He grinned, reassured, and kissed her, nodding. “Wow.”

She looked at him a little slyly. “There was a Muggle, I’m told, that said the outside of a horse was good for the inside of a man.”

He arched a brow. “Oh?”

She nodded. “I’ll have to give you my verdict on how the outside of a centaur is for the inside of a witch once my head has cleared and the bruises have been salved, but… I enjoyed that. Thank you for sharing your body and this intimacy with me.”

His eyes flickered over hers as she gazed at him, not sure she understood. “Luna, I would leave the forest for you. I’d… I’d wear a jumper and learn to climb stairs and sleep beneath a roof and pretend to see nothing in the sky. Thank you for accepting my body, my intimacy, and sharing yours with _ me _ . This was an incredible gift, and one I do not take likely, no matter how flippant you may often find me to be. It was also,” he said, kissing the corner of her jawline just by her ear, “the best ride I’ve ever had, and whenever you want me, I will repeat the performance.” He looked up wistfully for a moment, then rubbed his nose against hers. “So, if you happen to be, say, _ now…” _

She laughed and kicked free of him, swimming out into the deeper water. “Not yet. Relish what you’ve had, glutton. There’s… a lot of you, and I need a moment to recover. I will show you some more things we can do together that might not be so… enervating… next time.”

“I am an endless font of vigor,” he said drily around a yawn. “How may I serve?” 

Luna snrked softly, climbing ashore near what was left of her clothes and spelling herself dry. She dawdled a moment to let his eyes skate appreciatively over her body in the starlight. So pale was she she seemed to glow. Or… was she really…? He shook his head.

“Apologies about the... _ brassiere _,” he chuckled, letting his tongue roll decadently over the words as he looked at her nipple peeking through the tear he’d ripped down one cup. 

She smiled softly, spelling her clothes back together and onto her. “I only got it for you. I suspected you might react as you did to the exoticism of… false modesty and embellishment.”

The warmth of the water was nothing to the thought of this witch thoughtfully preparing herself, wondering what he might like, choosing how to present herself for his pleasure. Ronan sighed. “When will I see you again?”

Luna smiled. “Soon, I imagine. Take care.”

And she rotated on the spot, disappearing with a soft crack.

**Author's Note:**

> Many many thanks to Aerin_Windwalker and a fish for beta-ing. They made it much better.


End file.
